


Bonding and Braiding

by 2space_lesbo1



Category: God of War (Video Games)
Genre: Bonding, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Gen, braiding, tons of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 13:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2space_lesbo1/pseuds/2space_lesbo1
Summary: Atreus loves to braid hair.





	Bonding and Braiding

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a God of War fic in a long time so hopefully all the characters are still written correctly. 
> 
> Also yea it's still not beta read I'm a suicide bomber

When he was young, Atreus had had a lot of free time on his hands due to his sickness. He couldn't often leave his bed, much less the house, so he got bored quickly most days he wasn't terribly sick. One day, his mother, noticed his bored expression and taught him to braid hair. He loved the activity and practiced it nearly everyday on his mother's thick hair, quickly learning to easily weave strands of hair together beautifully and easily. 

Once his mother passed on, however, he didn't know who's hair to braid. He couldn't do his own- yet, anyway. It was too thin and had a few bald patches hidden just at the base of his roots due to his many years of being sick. 

He was losing all hope of ever braiding anyone’s hair again… Until they met two people: Mimir and Jörmandundrr. 

Mimir has a beard filled with plentiful hair, and Atreus had to ask. 

“Hey… Mimir?” he said one day as he and the head were sat on the shore of the Lake of Nine. Atreus would sometimes take the severed head with him on his short excursions, not wanting one of his only friends to grow too bored since he couldn't move on his own anymore. 

The head turns his glowing eyes to the child beside him, curiosity lighting them more so than usual. “Yes, laddie?” he inquired. 

Atreus shifts how he shifts a little, unwrapping his arms from his knees, letting his feet slide out in front of him. Sand rises around his heels, clumping into piles. “Could… could I… braid your hair?” he asks slowly and hesitantly. Mimir’s eyes widen in surprise and Atreus is afraid the smartest man reanimated is going to say no, but then a smile spreads across his lips. 

“Aye, laddie. Go on ahead,” the head said, amusement in his voice. 

Atreus can't stop the grin breaking across his face as he picks the head up and places him in his lap, grabbing handfuls of beard as he gets to work. 

Once finished, Atreus replaces Mimir on the ground beside him, leaving the head with a beautifully braided beard and a warm smile on his face. 

 

Not too long after that, Atreus is sat on one of the mountains near to where Jörmangundrr likes to hold his head above. The boy had quickly found himself enjoying the World Serpent’s company, trying his best to learn the other’s language. He's working to fully understand the serpent one day and have long conversations with the obviously intelligent creature. 

For now, however, Atreus sits criss crossed beneath the bohemian snake’s head, writing in his journal as he heavy breaths brush past him. The snake is speaking in his deep and rumbling baritone, talking about sometime when he was in Jötunheim. That's all Atreus has gotten so far. 

He's taking notes in his journal, even sketching the serpent some in his bored musings. There hasn't been as much to do since Fimblewinter started, and so Atreus liked to hang out with some of his only friends. 

Atreus hums as he takes a look at his newest drawing of Jörmangundrr, satisfied with the soft expression he'd given the serpent. Because the serpent was extremely soft. Just looked terrifying on the exterior, but he was actually really nice. 

The boy shuts his journal and leans back on his hands, arching his head back a little to look up at one of Jörmangundrr’s red and stormy eyes. The snake was still speaking, and Atreus was still listening best he could. Mimir has been right. The serpent was a wonderful conversationalist. 

He then takes notice of the “beard” on the serpent’s chin, and grins, recalling how he had braided Mimir’s. Maybe Jörmangundrr would let him do that, too. 

“Hey, Jörmy!” he calls up to the serpent, raising his voice a little so he could be heard. He had come up with a shorter nickname not long after becoming friends with the serpent. He likes Jörmangundrr’s full name, he does, but it could become a mouthful.

The serpent pauses in his monologue, turning his head to full look at the nearly minuscule boy beside him. With Jörmangundrr’s attention on him, Atreus hops to his feet. “Do you think I could braid your… um… beard?” he asks, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waits for an answer. 

Jörmangundrr tilts his massive head to the side, slowly blinking before he seems to grin, large teeth sliding against one another. He then angles his head down, before returning it upwards once more, saying the affirmative. 

Atreus grins in return and stands on his toes as the gigantic head hovers just in front of him, and he gets to work. Jörmangundrr’s beard is more difficult than Mimir’s, or his mother’s hair, but he works best he can, hooping around to loop the long strands of hair or algae or whatever is attached to his skin around one another. This close to the snake, he can hear the wind traveling through the large body, almost like it were in a large and cavernous tunnel. 

A while passes- somewhere between an hour or two- an Atreus finally finished, tugging on the last braid he'd been working on to knot it. He then steps back to observe his work, grinning when he finds around three, thick beards hanging from the snake’s chin. 

Jörmangundrr glances at his reflection in the lake before slowly and oh so gently nuzzling Atreus’s stomach, making the boy giggle. “You're welcome, Jörmy! I think you look good!” 

He heads home a few minutes later, the smile never leaving his face. 

It's a couple of days later when he's out with his father, practicing his archery while Kratos chops firewood. He pauses as his fifth arrow hits the bullseye once more, lowering his bow and and arrows to look over at his father. Snow is caught in the man’s thick beard, and Atreus suddenly has the urge to braid it. He presses his lips into a thin line, not really sure his father would ever allow him to do anything like that. 

He goes back to shooting his arrows, hitting the bullseye directly or just beside it. 

As the sun begins to sink behind the tree line, Atreus and Kratos head in for the night. Because Fimbulwinter has begun, it got extremely cold extremely quickly, and so they had to turn in early. Kratos has firewood gripped tightly to his side, and Atreus carries in some of the met they had scrounge up from a thin deer nearby. 

Kratos tosses the wood into the fire pit and starts a bright fire, while Atreus cuts the meat into thin strips, laying them out in the flames. He silently thanks whatever good gods there are that it isn't badger meat. 

Then, after eating the cooked deer meat, he and his father sit silently yet comfortably. Though, Atreus does occasionally glance at the mess of hair that is his father’s beard, and his fingers itch to braid it. Or at the very least brush it so it wasn't such a clumped mess. 

Mimir’s beard is still braided, and the head seems to like this fact. He is sat on the pillow Atreus had made him on his personal shelf, eyes skimming a book the boy had set up for him. Atreus trues very hard to make sure the head is comfortable. Since, well, he is just a head. 

Kratos seems to take notice of the boy’s twitchiness. “You have something on your mind, boy?” he asked, his gruff voice only just louder than the crackling fire. The harsh winds howl outside, but the flames are just large enough to keep the two men warm. 

Atreus bites his lip as he considers his options. He could just outright say what he wants, but he's sure that his father will just shoot him down. Oh well. Might as well. “Well… I was wondering if I could braid your beard?” Atreus asked hesitantly. Mimir raises an eyebrow at the question, glancing down at his own braid. 

Atreus’s father is silent for a few seconds, and Atreus is sure that he's just going to say no. Kratos looks to Mimir, who's golden eyes dart away innocently. Then the God of War sighs heavily, his head angling in a short nod. 

Atreus grins widely, utterly surprised that his father was going to let him braid his beard. Wasting no time, the boy hops to his feet and gets to work, brushing his thin, archer’s fingers through the tangled mess of his father’s beard. His father remains silent as Atreus works on his beard, watching with the slightest bit of warm amusement dancing in his otherwise cold eyes. 

It takes Atreus a little bit longer to finish his father’s braid, but once he does, he knots the end and grins up at Kratos. Then he falters and steps back. “Finished,” he said, a bit muted. 

Kratos observes his son’s work, surprised to find his beard a lot less tangled than it had been. Atreus has smooth out the mess of hairs and braided to little strands on either side of the beard, giving it a much more clean look. 

“Thank you, Atreus,” Kratos said with the smallest of smile. 

Atreus grins in return, proud. Warmth danced through his veins and continues to do so even as he tries to sleep for the night. 

Atreus becomes the unannounced hair stylist of the group, braiding beards and brushing them out, even trimming them when asked. Brok and Sindri later find out about the boy's new talents and calls upon his work, upgrading his Talon Bow in return. 

Atreus is glad he could carry on one of his mother's teachings. No matter how small it is.

**Author's Note:**

> Hhhhhhhhhh


End file.
